Dalton’s partner, Linda, all legs and short brown hair which she always tied at the nape of her neck, stepped in the office. “Hey, Dalton.” She offered him a warm smile before turning to Milo. “They’re waiting for you in the control room, Sarge.”
“I’m on my way.” Milo grabbed his jacket, buttoning it up as she walked out of the door. “You’ll come tonight, won't you?”
“It depends, Milo. I don’t know how long I'm going to be at the hospital, and if they let me, I'd stay all night.”
“Well, there's always enough food. Just pop round anytime you feel like it.”
Dalton stood, sharing a last look with Milo before walking to the door. “I’ll give you a call if I can make it, but don’t go out of your way, because I'm not promising I’ll be there.” He opened the door and stopped, the noise from the open plan office in front of him filling his ears, small words from disjointed conversations making sense after so many years of working in the environment. “Will you or someone be in touch about the counselling?
“Yeah.” Milo stepped behind him, hand on his back, smoothing circles on it as they both looked into the office and the people Dalton had worked with for so long. “It’s going to help you, Dalton.”
“And tick off a few boxes for you too.”
“That’s not my main aim in this and you know it.”
Dalton turned, Milo still resting his hand on his hip, almost not wanting this to end like Dalton wanted. “I want to come back. I miss this. It keeps my mind off other stuff.”
“I'm not saying you can’t. I'm saying take time out to be with your dad and to have space afterwards. The job’s still yours if you want it.”
“If I'm able to do it you mean?”
Milo clasped his shoulder tightly, giving him a firm look. “You're capable, Dalton, you and I know that, but right now… you need to get your head straight and your mind back on the game. I can't let you go out there while you're not. I took time off when I didn’t want to. I know how you feel. I came back when I was ready and I've never regretted that.”
“You had a bloody good reason to be off, Milo. And… it wasn’t entirely non-work related, was it?”
Milo was always on the job while he was off. He had an important witness to protect, and despite how Milo may look at it, that’s how the force saw it.
“I took time off after we rescued Samuel. I needed it. I could barely walk outside for a month without my chest tightening and a sweat forming on my brow. I was scared, Dalton. And that’s what I see in you. I'm not perfect, no one is.”
Dalton fiddled with the door handle, then stepped back. “I have to go. Say hi to Danny and Samuel for me.”
“They’re worried about you.” Milo paused, running those long fingers through his dark hair again. “I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t. Honestly. Everything’s fine.”
With that lie hanging heavily between them, Dalton gave a short wave and walked off, keeping his head held high and his eyes on the lift at the end of the office. He gave smiles and brief acknowledgements to friends, but other than he didn’t stop until he reached the lift. He tapped his feet on the floor, watching the light on the wall until it flickered at him and they sprung open.
Once inside, he pressed the button for the ground floor, and then fell against the wall, bending over and holding his head in his hands. The wave of nausea ripped through him and made him breathe faster. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest, his vison blurring, the world closing in on him. The doors sprung open and he ran, not caring who saw him, just getting out of there.
He’d driven in, but he didn’t stop running when he got to his car, he just kept going, running out of the parking lot and past the security guard there. He didn’t want to stop. If he did, the world would catch up with him and he’d have to face what was happening. So he ran, his trainers pounding on the ground harder and faster until everything around him was a blur and he only saw the path under his feet, lungs burning, chest aching, the muscles in his legs fighting him all the way as he sprinted down the road.
He had nowhere in mind, no direction, no plan. Just the ground keeping him company. It wasn’t until he found himself unable to continue he slowed down to a jog. The world focusing around him for the first time in what could have been hours. Dalton looked ahead and saw where he was. It made him shake when he saw just where he was. Right there in front of him were the double glass doors and the silver block capital letters displaying the name ASPIRE.
Dalton fell onto one of the metal benches in the courtyard and bent over, resting his head on his hands and sucking in big lungfuls of air. The sweat was running down his back and dripping off his face. He’d run before, but not like that, not that fast and for so long. He’d covered six miles from the police station and, checking his watch, he’d completed it under an hour. An accomplishment he should be proud of, but it only filled him with more dread, because he was still confused and still feeling like he should bolt.
How far would he have to run? How long could he keep going for? When he stopped, would he still feel the same?
Dalton knew it wasn’t distance he needed. He didn’t need to keep running, he needed to stand there and face what was bothering him head on. Running never solved anything—you carried your past and your fear with you constantly. For some reason he thought of Samuel. He was nineteen now, but through his short life he’d faced so much more than anyone else Dalton knew. He was brave, but he’d said it wasn’t until he’d stopped running from his past he felt in control.
Okay, Dalton had far less things to run from in his own life, the absence of a crazed Russian mafia boss for one, but still, running was running and fear was fear. He had to dig his heels in and stop being so worried.
He looked over his shoulder, staring at the tinted glass of the door which he’d walked through too many times to count over the last four months and felt like he’d arrived at a safe place. He may have found Aspire and the people in it through his marriage failing, but he had found more than he’d ever thought he would there.
The weight loss and getting fit, it had all been for Kelly. A way to hold onto his life, but looking back, Dalton could see it was the beginning of a new life. Not holding on to the past, but heading for the future. A future he was unsure of, and yes, it freaked him out, but in there he’d found the self-respect and confidence which he’d lost over the years.
And most of that was down to one person. Liam.
Dalton sucked in a breath as he saw the door to Aspire open and the tall, well-built figure of Liam stood there, watching him with his own particular silent, stern way. Even scowling and tense, looking so determined and slightly pissed off, Dalton could feel the worry and concern floating over to him.
He could walk away or he could walk to him. It was a make or break decision, and Dalton didn’t know which one he should take, but he knew which one he wanted.
Chapter 20
Liam observed through narrowed eyes as Dalton struggled to breathe on the bench. Kathy was standing right behind him, the tint from the windows hiding their concerned looks as Dalton doubled over in the courtyard, his back heaving with the deep breaths he was obviously struggling to take.
Liam folded his arms across his chest and just watched with stoic stillness while Kathy hovered close by.
“He looks like he’s about to collapse,” she whispered close to his ear. “We should do something.”
“I'm watching him. He’s not going anywhere right now.” Liam took a step closer to the door, itching to reach for the handle and stroll out there, demand why in the hell he was in such a state and why he’d been running in jeans and a sodding sweater. Dalton obviously hadn't been planning on it, and seeing him in such a state pulled on his nerves.
“He needs to get in from the sun and take a cold shower.” Kathy tried to go for the handle, but Liam stopped her with a stern look, his arm twitching with the need to reach out and grab her. “Liam, come on! He needs help. He’s about to pass out. Look at him.”
Liam had seen Dalton nearly passing out and this was far from it. “He’s just cooling off and letting his body come down from the run. He’s alright. Get on with your work and I’ll deal with him.”
Kathy gave him a shove and he met her eyes. “You be nice to him. He’s obviously got shit on his mind.”
“I'm always nice.” He turned away, listening to Kathy’s grunt as she walked off. “Dee,” he whispered to himself. “What are you doing to yourself, Baby?”
He filled up a plastic cup of cold water from the machine and placed it on the desk, grabbing a hand towel and wetting it before he opened the door and took a moment to look at Dalton. He was looking right at him, but nothing in his body language signalled he was actually seeing him, not until he blinked a few times and ran a hand down his face, wiping the sweat still running off him, a short breath blown through those full lips as he seemed to admit defeat and slumped backwards, stretching out his legs and watching as Liam took a step to him.
There was a moment where Liam thought he was going to get up and walk off, but instead, Dalton looked him right in the eyes, a barely there smile on his lips and an apologetic look in his sad eyes. Liam sucked in a breath and walked over to him, towel dripping in his hand and the determination Dalton wasn’t going anywhere until he’d cooled down and drank something.